Nothing Left But Saving Grace
by Miss Auburn
Summary: A story that takes place after Voldemort has taken over everything. Ginny is running, trying to get away. Who better to help her than...? Updated to accommodate OotP
1. Seamus

Disclaimer!!! I do not own these characters; I am merely making up random stories with them. I also do not really own the plot, that belongs to Sharon Shinn, in The Alleluia Files, one of the best books ever. I just adapted it. Enjoy!  
  
BTW, this is my first- well, actually my third, but the first two really sucked- attempt at writing Harry Potter, so please be patient with me.  
  
Saving Grace  
  
Seamus  
  
Ginny and Seamus walked along the streets of Oxford carefully. If they were caught now, it would mean death, or worse, for both of them.  
  
"What does the house look like, again?" Seamus whispered.  
  
"Um, Harry said it was a white house with green shutters. On the left." Ginny and Seamus were concealed by shadows, but still in danger. If the Death Eaters caught them now...Ginny shuddered at the thought of Death Eaters, but they were all over now. Ever since Voldemort had acquired enough followers to manage to take over England, Ginny, and many other wizards who didn't want to follow the Dark Lord, had lived in fear of their life. A small band of rebels had formed, led by the one and only Harry Potter, but their numbers were rapidly decreasing. Death Eaters and followers had caught many, and others had decided to masquerade as followers to avoid persecution. Tonight, Seamus was going to try his luck at getting out of England, because it was the most dangerous place you could be. It was Voldemort's capital, and was riddled with Death Eaters. Few Muggles were left, and they were servants to Death Eaters. More than once in the last five years had Ginny found herself working as a Muggle. It was safer, now, to be a Muggle than it was to be in league with Harry Potter.  
  
"I see it." Seamus hissed, getting Ginny's attention. "There. Third from the street." The house they were looking for was owned by a Muggle who made counterfeit airline tickets. Seamus wanted one, so he could get out of England.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to go with me?" Seamus asked abruptly.  
  
"Yes." Ginny answered simply.  
  
"Why? You could die here."  
  
"I know. But I could also make a difference here. If I can be of any help to Harry, it's worth it." While Ginny had gotten over her crush of Harry long ago, and now thought of him as a brother, he was one of her few remaining ones. Voldemort had taken a dislike to the Wesley's after Percy had attacked him viciously, and almost won over Voldemort. Almost. So now revenge was personal. Ginny walked up the steps to the house, and rapped on the door. It was answered a minute later by a sleepy woman.  
  
"Can I help you?" She asked with a yawn.  
  
"Yes. Is Terry here?" The woman looked more alert instantly.  
  
"What do you want with Terry?" she snapped.  
  
"We have a business proposition for him."  
  
"Oh, do you now?"  
  
"Yes. My friend here," Ginny motioned to Seamus, "Needs to leave England immediately. Can you help?" The woman sighed.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I can. Let me go get my husband." And the woman walked off.  
  
"Oh, Ginny!" Seamus exclaimed. "We did it! We can go!"  
  
"No, Seamus. 'We' can't. You can, though." Seamus's face fell in disappointment.  
  
"Yeah. You're right. Sorry." Ginny smiled over at him. Even though she didn't always get along with Seamus, it would be hard to leave him. Lately, with all her friends and family leaving her, Ginny found it harder and harder to say goodbye to them all. First, Percy dying, then Colin turning to Voldemort...Ginny shuddered.  
  
"What do you want?" A man cut into Ginny's musings. This must be Terry.  
  
"My friend wants passage to Japan."  
  
"Ah, I see now. But you do know, that Japan is becoming difficult to enter." Japan was one of the most well protected countries; there were almost no Death Eaters there. "I'm not sure I can get you there, or if I do, I can't ensure your safety."  
  
"I know." Seamus cut in gently.  
  
"Are you a...well, a wizard?"  
  
"Yes." It was no secret now that there were witches and wizards. It had all come out five years ago, when Voldemort rose. Some Muggles still didn't accept it, but most acknowledged their presence, often with fear. But the man Terry just nodded, and sat down at a computer.  
  
"Are you going to pass as one of us?" By 'one of us', Terry meant a Muggle. But only magical folk used that word.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, I'm not sure what your name is, and I don't want to know, but now you are...Jacob Koffer."  
  
"Alright." Seamus answered quietly. Terry handed him a stack of papers. "Here." He turned to Ginny. "Are you going too?"  
  
"No." She answered shortly. She handed him some money. "I hope this will cover it."  
  
"Ginny- no, you shouldn't do this!" Seamus protested. She smiled at him.  
  
"Consider it my farewell present to you."  
  
"No! You need the money to get back, and...to do stuff."  
  
Ginny laughed, the first time that day. "Sea-Jacob, it's fine. And I have more." Not much more, a small part of her brain uttered.  
  
"I feel horrible." Seamus confided.  
  
"Don't. It'll all be fine. And tomorrow, you get to leave all this," she gestured around, "behind for good."  
  
"Um, sorry to interrupt," Terry broke in. "But do you two want to spend the night? It'll be safer here."  
  
"No, thanks anyway."  
  
"Yes, that'll be wonderful." Ginny and Seamus answered at the same time. Ginny took a deep breath.  
  
"Alright."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next morning, Ginny and Seamus made their way to the airport. It was a tiny one, but that didn't matter. Getting away mattered, no matter how it happened. Seamus's flight left at ten o'clock. They stopped on the way to purchase some food. Ginny needed to return to London, and Seamus for Japan.  
  
"It's time to go." Ginny said quietly.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I-I guess I'll see you later, some time." she managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Goodbye." Seamus leaned over and planted a kiss on Ginny's lips. Not a very romantic kiss, more like a brotherly kiss.  
  
"Bye." Ginny whispered as Seamus walked away. She watched him walk through customs, and saw the group of men standing by the door. Seamus walked past them, and Ginny saw them turn and grab him. A silent tear trailed down her face. "No." she chanted. "This can't be happening. No!" her anguished face was screwed together. And so Ginny did the only thing she could do. She turned and walked away before they found her, too.  
  
AN- That was just the beginning. I have some more written, but tell me what you think!! 


	2. The Dark Mark

Disclaimer: Do I have to do this every time??? I own nothing. I have like 10 bucks, so please, please don't sue. JK Rowling's character's, Sharon Shinn's plot.  
  
The Dark Mark

Ginny gradually made her way away from Oxford. The trip getting here had only taken a week or so, because Ginny and Seamus had to travel by night. Now, Ginny was numb. She had seen Death Eaters take people before, people that she cared about. After all, there was nothing the Death Eaters loved more than catching a colleague of Potter's, especially one that was as close to escape as Seamus had been. Though not a religious person, Ginny muttered a quiet prayer for Seamus's safety. This just proved that nobody was out of Voldemort's reach.

Right now, she was sitting on a public bus. Wary of anyone too close to her, Ginny moved seats a lot, to wherever the least crowded part of the bus was. At any given time, more people than Ginny wanted to admit - possibly even people sitting here on this bus were, here with her- were Death Eaters, or were closly allied with them. Voldemort had imposed restriction on how much magic any witch or wizard could use, and most of the non-Dark magical community found it easier to use Muggle transportation rather than magic, after they tried to perform magic without a Dark Mark. And, of course, if the non-Dark people used Muggle transportation, so did the Death Eaters, because they couldn't control what they weren't around to witness. So now Muggle transportation was just as unsafe as magical, just not nearly as taxing. What it took to preform even a simple spell without the Dark Mark to assist you was rarely worth the magical assistance.

"I have to do something." Ginny muttered to herself. And she did. Right now, she was sticking out like a sore thumb- the conspicuous absence of the Dark Mark on her arm, the lack of Dark Arts paraphernalia. She might as well write, "I'm opposing the Dark Lord" on her forehead. But there was nothing that Ginny could do. She couldn't bring herself to get the Dark Mark, but at the same time, knew that she would have to sooner or later. Might as well be sooner, Ginny thought.

She couldn't go back to London, where the main resistance movements were. Just a week or so before Ginny and Seamus left, masses of Death Eaters had attacked the bookstore that had served as a command center, while they were in a meeting. Only about half of Potter's followers survived that night. Everyone knew the plan; if they were attacked, meet two months later- to the date- in an abandoned village fifteen miles or so North of Inverness, Scotland. So Ginny had two months to make her way there. She didn't even know the destination of the bus she was sitting on- she had just chosen a bus at random and got on it. 

Now, she had to find someone who would put the Dark Mark on her. Ginny didn't know where she would find someone who would give her the Dark Mark when she was one of the more public of Harry's followers. She couldn't get a Dark Mark the ordinary way- from one of the head Death Eaters- because they would surely recognize her. Then, she would be done for. 

Ginny rode the bus until it reached the end of it's line, then she disembarked and looked for a motel room where she could spend the night. Ginny was incredibly lucky; the room that she got was clean, cheap, and happened to have a fireplace. So, later on that night, Ginny made a decision, and used magic for the first time in several months. She contacted Paul, an ex-Death Eater, who she figured would be able to tell her where she could go to get the Dark Mark. Ginny was startled when she saw his face in the flames a few minutes later. In the two or so weeks since Ginny had last seen Paul, his face had aged considerably. There were wrinkles around his eyes that had not been there before, and that were not laugh lines. His brow seemed to have a permanent crease across the top, and the lines around his mouth told of much tension. All in all, he looked quite different. 

"What?!" He snapped, seeing Ginny in the fire.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Paul, but I need to know where I might be able to get the Dark Mark." Ginny replied, sweat trickling down her face with the effort of casting and maintaining the spell. Her hands trembled, and her voice shook.

"And where are you?"

"Umm………I'm not exactly sure."

"Well, than how can I tell you where to go?"

"I'm about a day's travel by bus West of Oxford." Paul frowned. 

"Try seeing," Paul paused, racking his memory for the name he was searching for. "Marion, that's her name! Marion Stoll. She's a dentist. I think she can help."

"Thanks so much, Paul!" Ginny said, her voice filled with relief. "I'll see her tomorrow."

"Good luck, Ginny." Paul whispered as his face faded into the fire.

"Good luck to you, too!" Ginny called after Paul's retreating outline. "We all need it."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day, as soon as Ginny woke up, she looked around the motel room for a phone book. She looked up Marion Stoll, only to find that there was no such person in the phone book. Ginny sighed. "Figures. Guess I'll find someone else than." She muttered to herself. So she got on the bus again. Around noon, they stopped in a tiny little town. Ginny got out to stretch her legs, and spotted a telephone booth. She went over, and, on a whim, looked up Marion Stoll in the phone book. There she was, only a few blocks from Ginny's present location. So she got her bags off the bus, and went over to Marion's office. At first, it seemed that it was closed, but after a few inquiries to the people on the street, Ginny learned that Marion had recently moved offices. Ginny went to the new one, and went inside. 

"May I please see Marion Stoll?" Ginny asked the secretary. The girl looked her over, and pressed a button on the desk. A minute or so later, a woman came out.

"Are you Marion?" Ginny asked her. The woman looked her over in much the same way her secretary had.

"Yes." She replied shortly.

"Good." Ginny said quickly. "Then I need to talk to you in private." Ginny looked around at the waiting room full of people, wary.

"Alright. Come on." It seemed that Marion wasn't one for conversation.  As Ginny followed Marion to an office, she observed the woman in front of her. She was not tall, maybe only about 5'5''. She seemed to be in her sixties, like Paul, for her hair was completely silver.

 "Here. Now," Marion said, getting down to business, "What is it that you want?"

Ginny took a deep breath to steady herself. "I need a Dark Mark." Marion's eyes widened a bit.

"What makes you think that I can help you?" Marion snapped.

"A man by the way of Paul Bennet said you could." Marion's dark eyes widened even more.

"Paul?" she breathed. "He's still alive?" Ginny nodded. Marion looked down, still obviously stunned. "I thought he was dead. They _told_ me he was dead!" Marion's voice rose to an almost hysterical level.

"You were close?" Ginny asked.

"We were lovers." Marion replied shortly. Ginny's mouth formed an "O". "Yes," Mario said. Ginny frowned, confused. "Yes, I'll give you the Dark Mark, though I have no idea why you want it."

"Camouflage." Ginny answered. "I can pay you." Marion's eyes traveled over Ginny, taking in her dirty and worn clothes, the poor fabric of her suitcases, and that fact that she obviously supported Potter. 

"No, keep the money." Ginny frowned. She didn't like accepting charity.

 "I'll pay." Ginny replied, a note of stubbornness in her voice. 

"Fine. Fifty galleons." Ginny blanched a bit. That was over twice what she had been expecting. 

"Fine." Ginny reached into her purse, and pulled out all her money, her entire savings. She had withdrawn it from Gringott's before she left London, and now it looked like she was going to lose most of it. "Not losing it." Ginny told herself. "It's a necessity. I need that Dark Mark." She passed the fifty galleons over to Marion, who nodded once.

"It'll hurt like hell." Marion warned.

"I know."

"Just wanted to let you know what you were getting into." Marion answered, and motioned Ginny to follow her out of the office. Ginny did, slightly weak at the knees from fear, and the loss of her savings. She followed the older woman down several different corridors, and finally reached a dark little room. Ginny followed Marion in, and Marion put both a locking charm on the door and a silencing charm on the room. 

"Hold out your arm." Ginny did as she was told, and Marion pulled out a wand. She began whispering words under her breath, spells. The skin right above Ginny's vein core began to heat up. Marion's words got louder, and Ginny's skin got hotter. Soon it felt like it was on fire. A scream filled Ginny's ears, and it took her a while to realize that she was the one screaming. The pain was tremendous. Ginny's teeth were clenched, and her left hand was in a fist, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm. The smell of burning human and charred flesh filled the room. So, Ginny tried to take her mind off the Dark Mark eating up her arm, and thought about anything she could think of. Her mind latched onto a random memory and dragged it up.

And so, as soon as Ginny got to London, Harry's headquarters, she made her way to the bookstore that served as a command center of the rebellion. "Ave noche" she whispered, and the door swung open. Ginny walked down a dozen or so stairs and found herself in front of a massive wooden door. "Duck, duck goose or the pause heard round the world." Ginny stated with a sigh. Why Hermione had chosen that as a password Ginny still didn't know, but if Hermione was happy with it, and no one managed to guess it, so Ginny supposed it was fine. Ginny walked up to the first person she saw and asked them where Harry was. 

"In his office." Was the reply, and Ginny made her way in there, meanwhile getting hugs from all her old friends there. Finally, Ginny managed to knock on the door to Harry's office. "Come in!" was the gruff reply.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed as she made her over to hug him.

"Hey Gin! Are you and Seamus still going next Tuesday?" Ginny stiffened. She had gotten into an argument with Hermione about this. Hermione didn't think it was safe, and didn't want Ginny to go. Needless to say, Ginny was still intent on going.

"Yep." Ginny replied abruptly. Harry winked at her.

"Just be careful." He muttered.

"You know I will be. And you also know that it'll be much easier and safer for Seamus to have me go with him, posing as his wife. It'll be more believable, and maybe out of the Death Eater's notice."

 "Well, I wish you luck"

"Thank you, Harry." Ginny replied. "Are you ready for the meeting tonight?"

"Yeah………kinda………not really." Harry shrugged. "I'll know what to say when it's time."

"Dumbledore's present." Ginny breathed. Dumbledore's Present or Gift was a rumored object that Dumbledore had left for Harry before he died. Right before he'd been Avada Kedavra'd, Dumbledore had turned to Harry, and told him that there he had a present for him. Then, a few weeks after the battle in which Dumbledore had been killed, Harry got an owl from Minerva McGonagall, telling him all about Dumbledore's gift. It seemed that it was an enchanted object; filled with spells that only Harry could use to defeat Voldemort, that could allow Harry to fulfill his prophecy to his advantage. For the past two and a half years, everyone supporting Potter had searched high and low for the gift. 

"Yeah, that's always one of the main topics at the meeting. 

"I guess I'll see you later, then. Good luck, Harry." And Ginny had seen him later at the meeting, but only for a brief moment. And after that, the Death Eaters attacked in spades. So much blood was spilled that night………Ginny shuddered just thinking about it.

Ginny woke up in the dark. Her arm ached horribly. She looked down at her arm, but couldn't see anything through the bandages. She swore under her breath. After a few minutes, Ginny attempted to sit up.

"Don't move." A voice said quietly in the dark. Ginny jumped, terrified. How had the Death Eaters found her? "Shit, shit, shit." Ginny thought. Any second now, they'd say "Avada Kedavra" and Ginny would be dead. Or worse, they wouldn't kill her. They would just torture her- like they probably did to Seamus- until she gave away secrets. Then, Harry, Hermione, the entire Weasley Clan, and all of Harry's cohorts would be dead, _because of her_. 

Then, the someone flipped the light switch, and Ginny saw that it was just Marion. She breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Don't scare me like that!" Ginny said reproachfully. 

"I didn't want you to move and hurt your arm." Marion said with a frown.

"Oh." Ginny replied. 

"How does your arm feel?" Marion asked.

"It hurts. Very Badly." Marion nodded. 

"That's to be expected. I'll give you some salve for it. Wonderful stuff." 

"Thank you." Ginny replied. "For everything." Marion smiled weakly.

"I thought surely by now you would be cursing me, not thanking me." Ginny laughed quietly. Marion walked over to a cupboard and got out a white jar. She bent down, and removed the bandage from Ginny's arm, and began applying the brownish cream to the new Dark Mark. "Not bad." Marion muttered, surveying her handiwork. "I guarantee you, no one will be able to tell that this isn't wasn't given to you by the Death Eaters. One of my better ones, I assure you." Ginny reached over, and with her good arm, she grasped Marion's arm.

"Thank you again. I think you might have just saved my life. If there is anything that you need or want, just ask, and, if I can, I will give to you right away. What you have just done means so much to me." Marion raised her eyebrows. 

"There is a favor I would ask of you." Ginny raised her eyebrows.'

"Anything."

"Tell Paul………tell him………tell Paul I miss him."

  
  
   
  
A/N tell me what you think!!  
  
And the "secret password" that Hermione used is actually the name of a play that a couple of friends and I wrote. It's so cool!!!! We also performed it, and I got to be Holly, who should have been born blond. It's so cool!!!


	3. Draco and his Women

Disclaimer- I own...not much. And certainly not this. Nope. Nothing.  
Draco and his Women  
  
Draco Malfoy sat in the conference room with about thirty Death Eaters- Voldemort's best and most powerful- and with the Dark Lord himself. His mind kept wandering off the topic of discussion (conquering America). It wasn't as if Draco didn't find the discussion interesting, he just wasn't in the right mood right not. And besides, the past dozen or so Death Eater meetings had all been about the same thing. He didn't think he could stand another word about the new President of Magic, Johnston, or about America's defense system. There was nothing Draco wanted to do more than get up and leave, or at least fall asleep.  
  
Luckily, right at the moment that Draco started to nod off, Blaise Zabini chose that moment to nudge Draco's ribs, waking him up.  
  
"Don't fall asleep!" She scolded quietly.  
  
"Sorry." Muttered Draco. Blaise just rolled her eyes.  
  
"I'm sure you are." Blaise paused. "Draco, is something on your mind? You seem even more distracted than usual."  
  
"No, I'm fine." Draco replied. In truth, he had been looking forward to seeing Blaise again. But the meeting was so boring that Draco just couldn't stay awake.  
  
"Be patient- it's almost over." Blaise whispered in Draco's ear, almost as if she knew what he had been thinking. And she was right. Just about ten minutes later the meeting let out, and Blaise and Draco went out to lunch. They talked for several hours, but only one part of their conversation stuck in Draco's mind. They had been talking a little bit about the meeting they had both just attended.  
  
"I think that Voldemort is being too harsh." That statement of Blaise's alone surprised Draco- he had never before heard Blaise utter words against the Dark Lord.  
  
"I don't know." Draco replied. "What do you mean? Being too harsh?" Blaise glanced around a bit, before whispering "Potter" in Draco's ear. "And the Muggles." Blaise added. "He's killing them off at an extraordinary rate."  
  
"But they deserve it." Countered Draco. "Especially Potter." Blaise just shrugged.  
  
"I don't know that I agree with that. I think you should talk to an... acquaintance of mine."  
  
"Who is this acquaintance?" Draco asked suspiciously.  
  
"Nobody that you know." Blaise shot back.  
  
"They how can I trust them? I don't normally trust people I don't know."  
  
"You can trust me." Blaise whispered seductively, and leaned over to kiss Draco square on the mouth. That stopped the conversation.  
  
Now, looking back on it the next morning, Draco found the conversation mildly disturbing. He had known Blaise for almost all twenty-three years of his life, and while he knew that Blaise hadn't particularly wanted to be a Death Eater, he hadn't thought that she would ever be in league with Potter.  
  
"Blaise?" He whispered, turning over to look at the still-sleeping form next to him.  
  
"Go away." She muttered grumpily, sleep still in her voice.  
  
"Blaise, it's important." She turned over groggily.  
  
"What the hell is it, Draco, that it can't wait until I wake up normally?"  
  
"Do you support Potter?" Draco asked quietly. Blaise stiffened. This was not what she expected.  
  
"Is this how you normally wake girls up? The morning after is supposed to be all kissing and cuddling, not interrogation."  
  
"Answer me." Draco said.  
  
"I don't know." Blaise answered honestly. "I don't think so."  
  
"Why?" Draco asked, his voice full of scorn.  
  
"Because, I think that Voldemort is an evil and cruel person. Don't forget, I've seen what he can do, what he does do."  
  
"But you pledged-"  
  
"I was young, naïve, and didn't have a choice. Now I do."  
  
"I see." Draco's voice was sharp.  
  
"I'm not the only one."  
  
"I see." Draco repeated.  
  
"Don't worry, it doesn't change anything." Blaise said, kissing Draco. At first, he didn't kiss her back, but Blaise only kissed harder, until she got some response.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next day, went home to Malfoy Manor. He hadn't been home in almost two months, traveling around. Malfoy Manor hadn't been a true home to Draco in many years, so he didn't feel any remorse about not being there. But he felt that, since some of his duties included caring for Malfoy Manor and it's inhabitants, he might as well help out.  
  
As it turned out, Draco hadn't at all needed to return. His mother had everything under perfect control. The few problems that had arisen had been easily dealt with. Narcissa assured Draco that everything was fine, then continued on to her favorite subject- marriage. Draco couldn't be married soon enough to please her.  
  
"So, Draco, did you meet any nice ladies while you were away?" Narcissa asked, sitting down in the plush black chair that graced the Malfoy's living room.  
  
"Yes, Mother. I met very many nice, presentable women." Draco said in a strained tone that suggested he had despised every one of the 'nice, presentable' girls he had met. It was one of the hazards of being a rich, handsome, extremely powerful man, Draco realized later. Everyone wants to marry you. As a matter of fact, Draco knew a great many women who would please his mother infinitely; they were just too.boring. His mother just sniffed in response.  
  
On top of being a very eligible man, Draco was a common houseguest among Death Eaters. He was high on Voldemort's chain of command, and one of the Dark Lord's favorites. No one profited from being on his bad side. So he spent much of his time paying curtsies to minor men and their families, convincing them that the Dark Way was the right way. If he met a marriageable woman while doing that, all the better in Narcissa's mind. Her son had lived as a bachelor too long. He needed to settle down and get married. Not, thought Narcissa, wrinkling her nose, that Draco had ever been without female companionship. Blaise, especially, had been in Draco's life for years. But Narcissa Malfoy didn't think that Blaise would make a very good wife. She was a beautiful, sought-after woman, but Narcissa could never imagine her marrying Draco. They had a very passionate affair, everyone knew. But they did not- could not- ever love each other. Not, considered Narcissa, that love was a big part of a Malfoy marriage. But Draco and Blaise were like the same personality cut into two different people. Both were arrogant, domineering and very attractive. No, thought Narcissa, Draco will need to find another wife.  
  
"What about that Creevy girl, Colin's sister?" Narcissa asked in a huff.  
  
"Mother, I don't appreciate it when you play matchmaker for me. And besides, Lucille is only seventeen. She's still at Beaubuxtons. Plus, back when she was still at Hogwarts up until her...Fourth year, she was in Gryffendor. I am not marrying a Gryffendor." Beaubuxtons, not Hogwarts. There was no more Hogwarts. The Dark Lord had destroyed it almost three years ago.  
  
"Well, there's-"  
  
"Mother!" Interrupted Draco. "Enough! I don't want to hear any more!" he stood up and walked away.  
  
"Draco! Come back here!" Draco stopped. "We'll discuss something else, then, if it's such a problem for you." There was a pleading tone in Narcissa's voice. Draco felt himself turning around and slowly walking back to the couch. As soon as he sat down, his mother scooted closer to him. "Now then, honey, how have you been? I haven't seen you in almost two months, what's been going on?" So Draco explained part of what he had been doing.  
  
In the five years since Voldemort had risen, hundreds more flocked to his ranks, wreaking havoc on the wizarding world. Voldemort obviously didn't have time to get to know them all personally, so Draco and some trusted others would go around, get to know the Death Eaters, and try to judge if they had gotten the Dark Mark out of feelings of self-preservation or if they really supported the Dark Lord, if they could be trusted. As a result, Draco hadn't been involved with any killings in the last three years, and most of the others had been minor, with less than a dozen dead.  
  
The Dark Lord had risen suddenly, when Draco had been out of Hogwarts for a year. There was little warning, at least among the common people, individuals who didn't support the Dark Lord. The terror campaign that he had immediately unleashed had been brutal, and many died. The opposition had somehow managed to get a force together, and, two and a half years ago, Harry Potter had led the people of England in a doomed fight, which he had inevitably lost. But, somehow, Potter had survived, and was mustering a new, equally doomed force. Draco thought it was not one of Potter's better ideas, but then again, what did he know.  
  
Anyway, Draco continued to visit Death Eaters, gain their support, and sleep with their daughters. Of course, Draco didn't mention the last part to his mother. No, Draco didn't feel like marrying anytime soon.  
  
A/N: Sorry, I've been sick, otherwise I'd have updated sooner. Well, being sick and an amazing lack of reviews. Almost makes me not want to write *tear*. Oh well. I suppose you could review...and make me write again. Please? 


	4. Deep Cries Out to Deep

Disclaimer- I own...not much. And certainly not this. Nope. Nothing. Nada. The plot is adapted from Sharon Shinn's The Alleluia Files, and the characters belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Deep Cries Out to Deep  
  
Ginny sat in a diner a few blocks away, staring at her arm. There, near the crook of her elbow, was the Dark Mark. It changed colors slightly as Ginny moved her arm. She shook her head- what had she been thinking to get this? It symbolized everything that she stood against. Self-preservation, the back of her mind whispered. To say alive.  
  
"What'd ya want, hon?" The waitress asked, interrupting Ginny's musings. The lady was obviously an American, the accent told that much.  
  
"Huh?" Ginny asked. The waitress nodded purposely toward the menu. "Oh." Ginny said, picking up the menu, and looking through quickly. I'll have the.house special." The waitress nodded, picked the menu out of Ginny's hands and left, leaving Ginny alone with her thoughts. She coughed and looked down at her arm again. She ran her fingertip along the outline, feeling a slight tickle. Odd that a feeling as happy as tickling could exist around such a horrid thing as the mark on her arm. She shuddered, and was repulsed and intrigued at the same time. As Ginny continued to stare down at it, she swore that she could almost hear voices coming out of the Dark Mark. Ridiculous, she told herself, no one has ever heard it talking. I just need sleep, she said, trying to alleviate her growing worry that she was crazy. Just what she needed, to go crazy on top of everything else that was going on in her life. The other patrons of the diner saw her arm, and gradually scooted away- no one wanted to be too close to a woman who was obviously a witch, and a Black Witch at that. Black Witch, indeed. Ginny snorted, drawing a few sideways looks. A term that the Muggles used for witches in league with Voldemort, it was not by any stretch of the imagination complimentary. If only they knew, Ginny thought. If only they knew that I spend every waking minute of my life fighting this evil I have marked on my arm. If only they knew that right now everything I own is in the seat across from me, in a duffel bag, because I don't have enough money for more things, or a way to carry them. That this meager meal was going to take a significant chunk out of my savings. If only they knew.  
  
"Here ya go!" The waitress set the plate down on the table with a thump, startling Ginny.  
  
"Wha- Oh, thanks." The waitress gave her a slight smile, with an underlying emotion- fear. Ginny looked down and began investigating her meal. She had no idea what she had ordered; it was cheap. She picked up her fork and began rummaging through the mass of...things on her plate. Whatever it was, it was encased in cheese, with pools of grease forming in the corners. Ginny took a deep breath, and then took a big bite. Not as bad as she would have thought. And besides, taste was not important. Right now, for Ginny, money and nourishment was more important than taste. And, as Ginny realized, the quicker she ate, the less she could taste her food. So she finished her meal quickly, paid her bill and was off. She decided to try to find a cheap inn to spend the night in, but all of them cost more money that Ginny had, even for just one night. Tomorrow, Ginny promised herself, I'll find a job. But she didn't know what to do for tonight. Bt now, it was nine' o'clock, and everything was closing up. "Damn!" Ginny whispered under hear breath, not knowing what to do. Finally, Ginny made her way to the bus station, and, propping her duffel bag up as a pillow, made herself a cozy little bed.  
  
But sleep did not come easily. The hard wooden bench seemed to be cutting into Ginny's back, preventing the state of dreamland from comforting her. Finally, she drifted off.  
  
Ginny woke up suddenly, feeling like she had only been asleep a few minutes. But, she thought, looking up at the sky, it's been at least two hours. And then she threw up, spewing all of the night's food all over the sidewalk by her head. More and more, it kept coming up. If the food hadn't tasted all the good going down, it was ten times worse coming back up. Finally, Ginny's stomach was completely empty, and she wiped her mouth. So much for nourishment. She reached behind her head, into her bag, and found a clock. It was about five in the morning. Ginny just moaned. She had somehow managed six hours of sleep, but it sure didn't feel like it. What she wouldn't give to have a warm bed, soft sheets...sleep. Even imagining the scene filled Ginny with longing. Ooh.  
  
Time to get up. The voice drifted through Ginny's head. Time to go get a job. So, Ginny sat up slowly, feeling the sore muscles of her stomach- disturbed by last night's retching- screaming in protest. But that didn't stop Ginny. She got up, and set about looking for a public restroom. Once she found one, she spent several minutes surveying herself in the mirror. Her red hair was dirty, and made her stand out way too much. Her clothes were fairly worn, and also dirty. And her face wasn't much of an improvement. "Not much I can do about that." Ginny thought. "But at least I can wash up." So she did, in the sink of a public restroom. She went through her bag, and put on the least dirty and wrinkled pair of clothes she could find. Afterward, she made her way around the town, looking out for a place where she could get a job. It was when she was walking past the diner at which she had eaten last night that Ginny realized what an advantage it would be to work at a place where she would not only make money, but get essentially free meals, too- table scraps! A grin spread across Ginny's face, the first in several days.  
  
And she got the job. It was a different waitress than the one from last night who interviewed her. Ginny was overjoyed. Not that having a job solved all her problems. The question of where she would be sleeping lay heavy on her mind. She figured she would just have to sleep on the bench until she got her paycheck.  
  
A/N: Ahh, I haven't updated in sooooo long!!! Not since March 2nd! It's now June 14!!! Well, in my defense, I have been incredibly busy, and kinda had a major family crisis. Actually, I haven't even been home to write in a month or so. Oh well. Just tell me what you think of the chapter!  
  
~NiMi 


	5. Survival Mode

A month later, Ginny was living out of a hotel, and actually had a bit of money saved up. She was eating regularly, even though a good part of what she ate was leftovers from customers. Not a great thing, she knew. In fact, a part of her was repulsed, and disgusted by what she had become- a girl running for her life, eating off other people's plates, not even helping Harry, just doing nothing productive with her life. But now was not the time to be prudish; she was in survival mode.  
  
The part of her mind that was not observing her life was concentrating on getting to Inverness. Ginny figured that she would be able to make her way North from there. She only had three more weeks before everyone was expected to meet there. Ginny wasn't sure that a bus ran up that way, and had to ask around. Her employer, Sidney, didn't know, but asked why Ginny wanted to know. "I have to visit my sister there."  
  
"Are you Scottish?" Sidney asked as they were clearing off the tables. It was only ten or so minutes until closing time, and Ginny had to think of answer quickly. However, she had been working all day, and her mind was a bit slow.  
  
"Um.no." Sidney frowned. Ginny sighed, silently cursing her. Why must she be so nosy? "She married a Scottish man." Ginny elaborated.  
  
"I see." She paused. "When are you leaving?"  
  
"Um, in two and a half weeks or so, I think."  
  
"I see." So Ginny continued to ask around until she finally found out that, no, there were no buses that ran up near Inverness from where she was now. She found a bus schedule, and saw that she would have to make at least two transfers. So it would take longer than she thought to make it to Inverness. She would have to leave in two weeks, instead of two and a half weeks.  
  
So Ginny continued to save all non-perishable food items, and eat the ones that would spoil. She was working sometimes fourteen hours a day, just to get the extra money. Anytime she was not working, Ginny was either sleeping or eating. Despite the fact that she had been eating almost anything she could get her hands on, she was still too skinny. She looked sickly, and mostly, poor, which she was. As she walked down the street, she could feel people's eyes upon her, pitying her. Now, Ginny had grown up poor, but never like this. People had felt sympathy for her financial state before, but no one- until now- had ever stopped her on the street and offered her money. And Ginny, who would never accept charity, and actually taken the meager amount of money offered.  
  
Tonight, Ginny was working the night shift. There were only two or three patrons in the diner, and they were all eating now, in no need of Ginny's help. So she was just sitting there, behind the counter. The chef- who Ginny was not impressed with...he had no vocational call to cooking- was cleaning up the kitchen for the night. So Ginny sat there at the counter, idly shuffling a deck of cards. Occasionally, she would stop shuffling long enough to play a game of solitaire, but she wasn't up to playing games, not now. No, shuffling was a mindless enough activity to occupy Ginny's time until she had to pick up the dishes. She looked out the window at the moon traversing its path across the night sky. If she sat still long enough, not moving her head, but keeping her eyes on the moon, she could actually watch it sink. Ginny measured its progress by the blinds covering the window; the slits in the blinds were just large enough to fill the openings. "La Luna." Ginny whispered, calling the moon by it's French name. Ginny grew up calling it 'La Luna' instead of 'the moon'. Looking back, it was much more poetic that way. But that made her think of Luna Lovegood, who she hadn't thought of in years. Ginny wondered where she was. Well, wherever she was, she decided, she was probably doing more than Ginny. She sighed. Reduced to watching the moon and reminiscing when she could be doing something to help Harry. Not to say that the moon wasn't important or pretty, just that Ginny felt she should be doing something. The last few weeks had been filled with inaction. An oxymoron, Ginny knew, but a fitting one.  
  
Ginny sighed again, and put down the cards that she had still been shuffling. The chef turned some music on, an American woman. Ginny pinched herself to stay awake, when she began listening to the music.  
  
Save me from loneliness  
  
There is no one who will walk with me now  
  
So walk with me now  
  
I'm so far from home  
  
And I know the narrow road  
  
Is what you promised those  
  
Following you  
  
And seeking the truth  
  
So tell me again that I'm not alone  
  
"How fitting." Ginny thought. Those words echoed in her mind over and over again. She was lonely, Ginny realized. Of course, it was obvious- she had no one that she could trust around. There was no one who could or would be with her, and she was so, so far from home. Not just physically, but mentally. The last time Ginny had been home, to the Burrow, had been years ago, and it would probably be years more until she returned.  
  
She was walking the narrow road in a land filled with darkness. She defied that darkness, and was persecuted for it. She was seeking the truth. But, in all honesty, she would be alone for a long time. Ginny had dated, but there was no one she loved in a non-brotherly or sisterly way. No one that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Ginny had had her love affairs- brief and passionate- but they were not enough. Even her friends, who she loved, couldn't help her now. No one could. A desolate feeling overcame Ginny. Tears prickled at her eyes. She took a deep breath. The lights in the diner suddenly seemed too harsh for her eyes. She looked around, and realized that a couple of the people had left, leaving only one well-dressed man at a table, all alone. Ginny walked over to the table recently vacated, and picked up the dishes. As she walked back, she picked at a few of the items left on the plate before handing it to the cook.  
  
Ginny walked back over to the one man left, asking if there was anything she could get him. It seemed to her that he could afford to tip well, so she was as sweet as possible, but his reply left her speechless.  
  
"Yeah, a nice serving of this!" he said, reaching to grab Ginny's butt. Ginny reached down carefully, moving his hand.  
  
"I don't think so, sir."  
  
"Ooh, I do." He said, pulling Ginny closer to him. "You don't look like you're doing too well, financially, you know." Then, pulling her head down to his shoulder, he whispered a sum into her ear that made her gasp.  
  
"Why?" Ginny asked breathlessly.  
  
He shrugged. "I like red heads. So will you?"  
  
Ginny paused. Would she? Selling herself had never been an option before, but than again, no one had ever made an offer before. She looked down at the man in front of her. He seemed to be of medium height, brown hair, fairly innocent-looking. He looked nice, actually. And she needed the money. "Survival mode," Ginny thought to herself. "I guess I won't be alone tonight, after all."  
  
A/N: Eww. I can't believe that I just did that. I hope Ginny doesn't seem too out-of-character here, but like the chapter is called, she's in survival mode. I think that I'll go deeper into the reasons why she did accept the man in the next chapter. You'll see then. If you're still reading, that is. Oh, and I hope that she didn't seem too depressed, but she is all alone. I have to admit, if I were in her situation, depressed would be an understatement!  
  
Also, the lyrics I used are Jill Phillips "Tell Me Again". I was listening to that song as I wrote the chapter, and they just really seemed to fit. I'm normally not one for putting songs into stories, but I had to here. Oh, and I did update just a few things in some of the previous chapters to make them correlate with the 5th book. I was so happy; I didn't have to delete anything! I just added a sentence or two!  
  
And just an FYI; I was bouncing ideas off my 8 year old sister today, and she gave me some good ideas for this story, so I may be adding in some chapters, and editing a few others. Hope that isn't a problem. Thank you everyone who is actually reading. Please review!  
  
Love Nimi 


End file.
